“I knew we hadn’t seen the last of him,” Ibana grunted.
“Is this going to make our job easier or harder?” Styke asked, though he thought he already knew the answer.
“Harder,” Ibana said. She swore, then continued. “If there is a fleet at harbor, Dvory isn’t going to give it to us. But …” She trailed off.
“But,” Styke picked up, “I’d damn well like to know how he got here so fast. And how he took New Starlight.”
“Right. Do you want me to send Jackal?”
Styke felt uneasy. He felt that way a lot these days, dealing with Ka-poel and renegade cuirassiers and assassin dragonmen. But this … this felt different to him and he couldn’t figure out why. The army was flying the flags of the Third. It was a whole field army, with Dvory at the head. He ignored Ibana’s question and asked his own. “You think he sold himself to the Dynize?”
“Dvory?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s a slimy piece of shit, but there’s no way he turned an entire field army. I know dozens of good, loyal soldiers in the Third.”
Styke chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Get me Jackal. We’re going to take a closer look.”
Styke and Jackal approached the pickets of the army camped outside of New Starlight and were waved through with only a lingering glance and a curious whisper. They were soon among the tents, riding down the main road that led to the curtain wall and the city-fortress beyond it. Styke kept his eyes and ears open, keeping Amrec at a walk, trying to shake the uneasiness that plagued his thoughts.
The army was camped at leisure, sprawled and disorganized like an army resting in the spoils of a great victory—though it was clear that there had been no battle to take the city. Soldiers played cards by the cookfires, set up ball fields out by the pickets, and stripped the area of firewood and edibles.
“Are the spirits telling you anything about this?” Styke asked Jackal out of the corner of his mouth.
Jackal looked just as suspicious as Styke, if not more so, and he answered without taking his eyes off the camp. “The spirits are fickle right now. Most of them have fled from Ka-poel’s sorcery, and the ones who haven’t speak in riddles. They’re … not helpful.”
“What do you make of this?”
“I don’t like it.”
Jackal seemed to have nothing else to add, so Styke let him be. Truth be told, he couldn’t add any more himself. The circumstances of the Third Army’s arrival seemed suspicious at best, sinister at worst, yet there was nothing about the camp that spoke to him of sedition or treachery.
As they neared the curtain wall, he saw a small group of men gathered playing dice on a plank. One of them glanced up, did a double take, then sprang to his feet and jogged toward Styke. He was a thin, dark-skinned Deliv. He looked like he was in his forties, with a touch of gray at his temples and a distinctive scar along his left cheek. “Colonel Ben Styke?” he asked, falling in beside Amrec.
“That’s me.”
“Colonel Willen,” the man introduced himself. “I saw you at a distance back near Belltower but I never got the chance to meet you. I’m with the Seventy-Fourth Rifles. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Styke.”
Styke pulled on the reins and turned to look down at Willen. “Pleasure is mine,” he said slowly. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place the face. “Mind telling me what’s going on here?”
“What do you mean?” Willen seemed genuinely perplexed by the question.
“I mean that five days ago, I rode past New Starlight and saw Dynize flags. I come back this way and the city is held by our side, without any sign of a struggle.”
“Ah!” Willen’s grin widened. “Well, sir, oddest bit of luck. I’ll tell you, we weren’t all that far behind—we arrived just yesterday morning to find the citadel completely abandoned. No ships in harbor, no spies hiding in the walls. Just an empty husk of a place stripped of supplies.”
Styke leaned on his saddle horn. “You’re joking.” No ships. That would make it damned hard to get to Dynize.
“Not at all! I’ll tell you, it’s the damnedest thing. We had orders to take the city as quickly as possible, but it was empty.”
“Do you know why?”
“I’m not one to question fortune, but …” Willen searched his jacket, produced a tin of tobacco, and tucked a wad into the corner of his mouth before continuing. “We came across half a brigade of Dynize cavalry slaughtered in the Hock—I’m guessing now that it was your doing—and our best guess is that the Dynize holding the city were spooked and decided to flee.”
Styke bit his tongue, holding back a dozen reasons why the Dynize wouldn’t have fled just because of some dead cuirassiers. He looked up at the nearby curtain wall and the high towers of New Starlight beyond it, then glanced to the eastern horizon. “Perhaps,” he said. “Perhaps not. Maybe they got wind of a field army on the way and decided they couldn’t hold the fortress against it.” It seemed like the only probable reason for abandoning New Starlight. Perhaps Styke was just being paranoid. “Tell me, did the Dynize spike the fortress guns when they left?”
“I’m not sure,” Willen replied. “I can ask.”
“Do so. Where is Dvory?”
“Ah. The general is in the citadel. His personal company is holding it.”
“Taking the choice beds for himself, I suppose.”
“A general’s prerogative,” Willen said demurely. “If you’d like, I’ll take you to him.”
“No need, I …” Styke hesitated, exchanging a glance with Jackal. “Actually, that would be wonderful.”
“Hold on, I’ll fetch my horse.”
Within a few minutes, Colonel Willen was riding beside them as they headed toward the fortress. They passed beneath the curtain wall, which was staffed with guards from one of the brigades but not policed. The city-fortress within had been taken over by the army.
“All the buildings were empty when we arrived,” Colonel Willen explained. “As far as we’ve been able to piece together, the city was abandoned by the garrison the very day that word came that Landfall had been taken. The people fled soon after, leaving it abandoned to be picked up by the Dynize.”
“That’s a shame,” Styke said, watching a company of soldiers march past in the street.
Willen spat out a wad of tobacco. “Agreed. New Starlight isn’t protected by sorcery, but the walls are strong and the guns powerful. They could have made a damned good stand against any sized fleet in the area. Pity, I say, but that’s what we’re here to remedy.”
“What, exactly, are your orders?” Styke glanced sharply at Willen.
“They were secret until we actually arrived,” Willen said. “But we were to march across the Hammer and take New Starlight as quickly as possible. Now, I believe, we’ll garrison the city and use it as a staging point to cleanse the Hammer.” Willen nodded toward the citadel. “General Dvory is meeting with all the brigadiers and about half the colonels right now. I imagine we’ll have our next set of orders by tomorrow.”
Styke debated his next options. If there were no ships here, then the citadel was useless to the Mad Lancers. His best bet might be to ride back to Belltower and use the good graces he’d earned with the city to commandeer a small fleet. In which case, he should turn around right now and ride back to camp. He didn’t need Dvory getting overly curious about his goals.
“Why the urgency?” he asked Willen.
“Hmm?”
“You were told to march across the Hammer and take Starlight as quickly as possible. Why? Did you even bring enough artillery to take the citadel?”
“Only just—about the artillery, that is. We have a battery of twelve-pounders and six batteries of six-pounders. As far as the speed?” Willen shrugged. “The orders came directly from Lindet herself. One does not question Lindet’s orders.”